


The Loneliest Sucker on Earth

by unclaspedkahuna



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, British people, Kissing, M/M, Sadstuck, dirkbot - Freeform, first homestuck fic!, jake english violently denying being gay for 3k words, light Violence, only half a beta read we die like men, very light dubcon stuff idk if thats even the word theres just confusion around robot mechanics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:27:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27683537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unclaspedkahuna/pseuds/unclaspedkahuna
Summary: Your name is JAKE ENGLISH and you asked your friend to send you a friend-bot but it only led to a big, gay mess of unresolved feelings.
Relationships: Jake English/Dirk Strider
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	The Loneliest Sucker on Earth

golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] 

GT: Bro! My chipper old chap my good striding strider how are you? 

TT: What do you want? 

GT: What? 

GT: Why must you assume that any moderately gay approach to my bestest of best bros is a call for *wants* and *wanting things*? 

TT: Because you’re overtly gay when you want things, and your gay is off the charts right now. 

TT: I’m talking George Michael levels of gay. 

TT: Houston, we’ve reached critical gay and I don’t think our gay rockets are equipped to handle these levels of gay. 

TT: Damn, the rockets got overloaded with gay. They’re definitely going down. 

GT: Good grief that went on for a while i think i got the message. 

TT: Well. 

GT: Well? 

TT: What is it? 

GT: What is what? 

TT: The thing you want from your bestest of best bros. 

GT: Oh! 

GT: Oh yes i got so caught up in all the gay that i forgot. 

GT: You know all of those fine fighting robots youve kindly sent my way? 

TT: Heard of them. 

TT: Heard that you’ve been getting your shit rocked by them too. 

GT: Well im not at liberty to discuss *that*… 

GT: But i was wondering 

GT: Hm 

TT: What? 

GT: Well now i feel embarrassed to ask 

TT: It’s okay dude. 

GT: On second thought i actually think im fine! 

GT: Perfectly dandy in fact! 

GT: Phew i feel so flippin fandanging right now ;) 

TT: Dude.

TT: You can tell me whatever it is. 

TT: If it ends up being really all that bad and I can’t help you out then I’ll pretend it never happened. 

GT: … 

GT: Promise? 

TT: On my bro-hood. 

TT: Now let it all out, English. 

GT: Okay well 

GT: I was wondering if you had any palbots in your inventory for an old scoundrel like me? 

TT: Pal-bot? 

GT: Like a bot that does chummy things instead of all this horseplay. 

GT: Not that i dont like a little roughhousing! 

GT: I just want maybe for when im home alone all palled out a little rough around the edges to have a bro in the flesh for friendship purposes

TT: I see. 

GT: I must say that it is not for any homo purposes before you get some crazy ideas. 

TT: Well, I didn’t have any ‘crazy ideas’ before you said that, but now I’m suspicious. 

GT: Well banish those suspicions! Theres not even the tiniest smidgen of homotivity over here in casa de english. 

TT: Right dude. Whatever you say. 

GT: It is whatever you say! I mean whatever i say! And i say that i am asking in the straightest of interests! 

TT: Are you done? 

GT: Do you believe me? 

TT: Yes. 

GT: Then case closed! 

TT: Cool. 

TT: Well, as long as you’re only using it for the most hetero of intentions, I think I could throw something together for you. 

GT: Really?! 

TT: Yeah. 

TT: I’ll have it to you by the end of the week. 

GT: Oh dirk! My most wonderous of brothers! Thank you so much! 

TT: Don’t mention it. 

TT: I’ll start right now actually. 

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering golgothasTerror [GT] 

GT: Youre the best, im weepy at the seams. 

GT: Thank you forever! 

golgothasTerror [GT] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] 

Your name is JAKE ENGLISH, and right now you feel like you might well be the loneliest sucker on earth. 

You’re getting your ass handed to you by a robot that your dear friend Dirk Strider sent you, a robot in his own likeness, and each hit is getting less and less fun. There was a time when being pummelled by cold, hard steel would fill the hungry cavity in your heart for a few hours, a few days even, but now, making contact with its metal skin is a bitter reminder of how lacking you are in real human contact. You’ve forgotten what touch feels like. You try to hold yourself at night and wish on a lucky star that you might trick yourself, but then you are just some guy holding his own boobs like a total creep.

You end the battle when you put a slug through the robot’s fake robot brain, full of very real robot homicidal thoughts, and it topples lifelessly to the ground next to you, eyes flickering out to a black that reflects your own face back at you. You look like a drag queen who got caught in the rain, eyes ringed with a nasty shade of purple, and your blood red lipstick (which is actually just blood) is smeared everywhere it could possibly be. If there was a therapist in this place, he would tell you that-

IMAGINARY THERAPIST: Your insistence on scrapping with a cold, soulless rendition of your male best friend is indicative of you using self-harm as a way to deflect your own homosexual tendencies. 

Maybe it’s a good thing this island is empty.

You sulk back to your home, and nothing comes out to chase you. The jungle is silent today, and the silence speaks volumes, and the vast expanse of flora sans fauna makes you feel so fucking tiny. Somehow this smallness doesn’t counteract the oafish clumsiness you feel weighing you down. The tiniest, heaviest, loneliest sucker on earth.

You get home and draw yourself an ice-cold bath, and you stand in the bathroom naked, examining the extent of your injuries. Every inch of your skin is riddled with white scars that contrast the tan of your skin developed by years of the sun’s harsh beatdowns. The bruising over your chest matches up with your own ragged breathing. In fact, your entire torso displays hills and valleys indicative of repeated breaks and half heals. It’s a miracle that you’re alive at all. 

The bath is gruelling, but necessary. You’ve learned from movies that great athletes and heroes alike heal from their ice baths, that the freezing water is an elixir of sorts that replenishes your macho-man powers. None the less, you suck in a little as you slowly submerge. Your wounds scream at you, begging for a moment of respite, but you sit your ass down onto the bottom of the metal tub and hold yourself tight, shivering violently. You think you’d get used to it after a while, and you damn well know that the nights without company are a million times colder than this could ever be. You guess you’re still kind of a wimp after all these years.

You come to a still in the bathtub, and eventually the ice cubes stop sloshing around, and the room falls dead quiet. In this quiet, you sit, for what could be minutes or hours. It doesn’t matter. You don’t think anything. You just let yourself marinate until the water is too warm to have any more healing effects. 

It almost takes more effort to roll out of the tub than getting into it did. You pull on a pair of bottoms and shuffle into your bedroom. Exhaustion rolls in, and now you can only think about collapsing onto your bed and falling asleep to a movie. So that’s what you do.

The second you’re within safe falling distance you’re face first into the soft cushioning, wheezing on impact. The fuzzy blankets offer refuge and most importantly offer an overwhelming warmth. You breathe in the earned sense of comfort, an adventurer’s prize, and roll onto your back.

There is somebody in your room.

You let out an embarrassingly girlish scream as you startle up to your feet, grabbing at yourself for some kind of weapon. You’ve got nothing.

JAKE: Who are you! Unveil yourself to me right now you ruffian! 

The person holds up their hands defensively, and as their hands glint in the light, you put it all together.

DIRKBOT: Whoa, dude, mercy on your palbot. 

You laugh as you sit back down onto the bed and scan your new dirkbot. He’s made in even more likeness of Dirk Strider, down to the orange hat printed onto his t-shirt. His metal suit has been painted to resemble something much more human than the bots you’re used to fighting against, and it works in your favour. The room has already gotten lighter, excited to have another person in its midst.

JAKE: Dirk! Bro! You scared me. 

DIRKBOT: My bad, I didn’t want to interrupt your mope sesh. 

JAKE: My what? 

DIRKBOT: Whatever you were doing while you were grumbling in bed. 

You flush, having forgotten that your flagrant display of emotion had been witnessed.

JAKE: Oh that, heh… rough day, you know? 

DIRKBOT: Better than you might think. 

JAKE: Would you like to sit? 

DIRKBOT: Hells yeah. 

The dirkbot sits next to you in bed, looking around the room.

DIRKBOT: Damn dude. 

JAKE: What? 

DIRKBOT: You’ve got a lot of posters. 

JAKE: Oh yeah! Do you… not like them? 

DIRKBOT: Nah dude they’re bitchin'. 

Score.

JAKE: Do you wanna watch a movie right now? I was just about to put something on. 

DIRKBOT: Jake. 

JAKE: Dirk. 

DIRKBOT: I would like nothing more than to watch a movie with you. 

You beam wildly and hurry to set up the first movie you can find, which is apparently X-Men: Days of Future Past. Dirkbot finds a wall to lean back against, and as the movie begins playing on your wheeled TV, you take a seat next to him.

JAKE: I think you’ll find this one totally swanky. It’s about mutants. 

DIRKBOT: Killer. 

You two settle in next to each other, keeping a healthy amount of dude space between you two dudes. You try your best to focus on the movie, but you’re so excited to finally be in the presence of somebody else that you can’t seem to keep your eyes on the screen. They periodically drift over to take in the might of the Dirkbot. Dirk has obviously not been shy sculpting gracious, near-Herculean muscles. With the sunset light glistening in through the window, Dirkbot’s biceps shimmer, and every once in a while, he shifts just a little bit and you can watch the inner working of his gears turn over, whirring a little bit as they do so. He pulls a leg up to his chest, and his robot thigh is outlined in gold light, reflecting back into your eyes. 

As much as you hate to admit it, it’s getting harder and harder to pretend that you’re admiring him in a mano-y-mano appreciation of some fine engineering.

DIRKBOT: Hey. 

You snap back to reality and realize that the movie is over, and that Dirkbot is staring right back at you. You think that your face must be the dumbest shade of red anybody has ever seen.

DIRKBOT: What are you… doing there? 

JAKE: Oh! Uh… 

You look away.

JAKE: Sorry, bro, I must’ve gotten distracted! My mind’s eyes just went totally kaput on me. 

DIRKBOT: Sure, sure. 

His tone is obnoxiously sarcastic.

JAKE: What’s the 'tude for, Strider? 

He laughs.

DIRKBOT: Nothing. You were just staring like you didn’t have, how did you put it? The “straightest of interests”? 

JAKE: Hey! I was just- 

What were you doing?

JAKE: I just got distracted! 

DIRKBOT: Distracted by what? My big manly muscles? 

You think the veins in your forehead are going to explode.

DIRKBOT: Hey man, there’s no shame in it. I myself am a big fan of man muscles, I just didn’t expect this all to bubble to the surface today. I thought it would at least take a week for you to overcome your years of gay denial. 

JAKE: Shut up! You’re ruining this. 

DIRKBOT: Oh, you like it better when I’m silent? That’s cool, I can just pose for you. 

JAKE: Boy, you are such a piece of work. I didn’t think you’d be programmed with all this spunk. I was anticipating something more like the blasted autoresponder. 

DIRKBOT: Hell no, you’re getting the real thing. 

JAKE: I might prefer Hal at this rate. You’re just arduous to speak with. 

Dirkbot leans in to taunt you, and you’re burning white hot.

DIRKBOT: Too bad, English. I’m your only friend now. 

It’s as if he smiles as he speaks, and between your confusion and shame and anger you lose all grip on yourself control. Instead, you gain grip on the sides of Dirkbot’s face, and pull him in for a kiss. You tell yourself-

JAKE’S INNER CONSCIENCE: It’s not gay! It’s just to shut him up for a bit. 

But then you just shut yourself off to that part of your mind and start kissing Dirkbot. Metal hands rest on your shoulders with an unexpected softness, different from all the other experiences you’ve had with Dirk-like bots. You lean him back and now you’re lying over top of him, and he’s underneath you, and you know that he’s not a person but the way he touches you lets you imagine your best friend here instead. Dirkbot kisses you back, a little apprehensive, although you can’t tell why.

You pull away for a second to ask an integral, albeit awkward question.

JAKE: Wait, do you uh… do you have a… you know? 

DIRKBOT: Um, uh… 

DIRKBOT: Yes. 

JAKE: Oh, goodie. 

You reach down for your belt and start fumbling, although the metal and leather of the belt feels like oil and your hands feel like water.

DIRKBOT: Jake, wait- 

DIRKBOT: You should stop. 

JAKE: Oh god. 

You sit up and put your hands in your lap awkwardly.

JAKE: I’m sorry. 

JAKE: If you don’t mind me asking, what did I do wrong? 

Dirkbot sits up as well.

DIRKBOT: I don’t really know how to explain this to you. 

DIRKBOT: This is so embarrassing. 

DIRKBOT: It’s me, Jake. It’s Dirk. 

You can’t help but laugh.

JAKE: Well, I know it’s you. That’s how the bots work. 

DIRKBOT: No, Jake. It’s me. Like, it’s really me. 

JAKE: Yes! Dirk! There’s a bit of Dirk in every version of himself he creates. It’s rather magnificent actually. 

DIRKBOT: Oh god. You’re not understanding. 

JAKE: I wasn’t anticipating that Dirk would program a palbot loaded with an existential crisis function, but I guess I don’t mind helping a bro out. 

Dirkbot doesn’t respond, and you try and laugh away the awkward silence, but it just keeps going. You think for a moment that maybe he just powered down, but then your tablet chimes with a Pesterchum notification, and you decide to deal with that first.

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering golgothasTerror [GT] 

TT: Jake. Dude. Bro. Stop it. 

GT: Stop what? 

TT: Mackin’ on the Pal-bot. 

GT: WHAT? 

GT: I was doing no such thing. 

GT: Youre talking in straight crazies right now strider. 

TT: I can see through the bot for god’s sake. 

TT: So you can drop the act now. 

GT: … 

GT: What. 

TT: Yeah. That was what I was trying to tell you. 

TT: Ugh. 

TT: I wanted to make the bot like… real. And have it be a good friend. 

TT: So I programmed it so I could control its body. 

TT: And look through its eyes. 

TT: … 

TT: And talk through its mouth. 

TT: I’m sorry. 

TT: I don’t know why I didn’t tell you right away. 

TT: I’m such an idiot. 

GT: Wait so you 

GT: You were looking? 

GT: And you were… 

GT: I dont… 

GT: Huh. 

TT: I’m sorry. Like really sorry. So fucking sorry. 

TT: This was such a stupid idea. 

TT: I thought it was good. 

TT: I fucked up pretty bad, didn’t I. 

GT: Yeah i think you did. 

TT: Jake. 

TT: I promise, I won’t tell a single soul about this. 

TT: This can be between us. 

TT: I’m sorry it all came out like this, but you know. 

TT: I like you. 

TT: And I guess you like me too. 

TT: And I know it’s a sore subject so I swear I’ll keep it all to myself. 

TT: But I’m honestly glad that it’s all out in the open now, and I just… 

GT: Dirk. 

TT: Yeah? 

GT: Theres nothing *between us*. 

TT: Wait. 

TT: What do you mean? 

GT: What you saw there was me just making a mistake. 

GT: This is all a mistake. 

TT: Ouch. 

TT: You really know how to let a guy down gently. 

GT: Im serious dirk. 

GT: Nothing between us. 

GT: You confused me when you started talking and i panicked thats all. 

GT: Im not gay. 

TT: … 

TT: Right. 

TT: You’re being serious right now? 

GT: Dead. 

GT: Youre my best bro but thats where it ends and i wouldnt have done what i just did if it had actually been *you* here. 

TT: Oh. 

TT: Okay. 

TT: Well then. 

GT: Is there a way for you to power off the bot for a while? 

GT: Or at least just leave me alone for a bit? 

TT: Yeah, of course. 

GT: Alright. 

GT: I think you should do that. 

TT: I will. 

GT: Thanks. 

TT: Jake, I mean it. I am so fucking sorry. 

golgothasTerror [GT] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] 

You close the conversation, and the Dirkbot gets up and pitifully shuffles out of the room. You watch it as it goes. It was certainly nice while it lasted. You’re not sure where you’re to go from here, but you think that it’s probably best for you to figure it out another time. You’ve just spent five minutes lying straight through your teeth to your best friend, and the whole time your conscience was screaming at you to let this be your big gay confession, but you locked that part of your brain away earlier, and it’s having a hard time getting back in now.

Once you’re entirely sure that he’s out of earshot, you curl up into yourself and start to cry.


End file.
